Thanksgiving Morning
by Lone Butterfly
Summary: What happens when everyone waits until the last minute to grocery shop for Thanksgiving? A light bit of fluff, or what is happening in the CSI universe while we are watching parades on TV.


Disclaimer: I do not own CSI or anything resembling CSI.

A/N: A light bit of fluff for Thanksgiving morning, for all you readers who are right now reading instead of making sure your turkeys aren't burning. Go, check on the turkey. This will be here when you get back. I, myself, couldn't even begin my Thanksgiving cooking until I got this out of my head and onto paper. See, we all feel better. (No beta for this story, all mistakes are so very much mine.)

**XOX XOX XOX XOX XOX**

He pulled the Denali into a parking space and got out, waiting for Sara to get out and come around before heading to the electronic doors of the grocery store. She grabbed a shopping cart and pushed it into the crowded aisle.

"You know, if you would just admit we are dating, we would have only had to bring one dish to Catherine's tonight. Now we have to bring two different side dishes to this shin-dig."

Grissom just let a small smile escape at her grumbling. "Sara, we never even get to really celebrate the holidays, so lets just get through this as quickly and painlessly as possible. And admitting that we are seeing each other tonight, in the middle of Thanksgiving dinner, in front of Catherine, Lindsay, Brass, Warrick, Tina, Nick, AND Greg, will NOT be quick nor will it be painless." He gently steered the front of the cart towards the produce section. "Besides, I think it was gracious of Catherine to give us each a vegetarian side dish to bring."

"Gracious? It's not like she asked me to bring tofurky, and I hardly think your cranberry sauce counts as a side dish. That's really more of a condiment, Gris."

"I make it from scratch! Please do not reduce my hard work to condiment status." Grissom walked away from the cart, reaching for two plastic bags and handing one to Sara. He turned his back to her as he began picking out fresh cranberries.

"Hard work?" Sara snorted derisively as she sorted through a pile of sweet potatoes. "My dish is hard work, involving many steps, multiple ingredients, and actually oven time." She twirled the bag and twisted a twist-tie to close it before dropping it in the cart. "Done picking out your perfect berries?"

Grissom nodded, and carefully knotted the top of his bag, gently placing the very full container next to the sweet potatoes. "I need a bottle of Cognac for the sauce, and that will complete my shopping."

"I need marshmallows and cinnamon spice."

"Marshmallows? You're offering to this event requires marshmallows? And you had the audacity to say my cranberry sauce was not a real side dish?"

Sara narrowed her eyes and glared, pushing the cart down the cake/pie aisle. "That's quite enough from you," she muttered, giving him a whack on his arm.

"We'll just taste them when we get there to settle this. Because anything that has marshmallows cannot be considered anything but dessert. Besides, I've been awake since yesterday at five, it's currently eight in the morning, and I really want to get in at least a short nap before we have to be at Catherine's at six."

Sara threw two bags of marshmallows and a jar of cinnamon sticks next to the produce and continued to the check out line.

"Sara? Honey?"

She roughly tossed the items onto the moving belt, thankful that at least all the checkout lines were open on Thanksgiving Day. "You are mocking my family tradition, Gris. I am not feeling overly appreciative of that," she said, poking him hard in the chest for good measure.

"Sara, why don't you just stay at my house and we'll cook both recipes there. Then I can taste your marshmallow-sweet potato thing before we leave. Plus, you can take a nap with me before we head to Catherine's." Grissom picked up the bags and began walking to the parking lot.

Sara let out a small chuckle as she followed him to his Denali and climbed inside.

"What makes you think if we nap at your house we'll be rested for tonight's dinner and shift?"

Grissom let out a real laugh and turned out of the parking lot towards his townhouse.

**XOX XOX XOX XOX XOX**

"Was that Grissom? And was there someone in the passenger seat?"

"I don't know, Greg, I was paying attention to driving and finding an open grocery store, not staring out the window."

"You don't have to be so grouchy, Nick, I'm the one with the broken leg."

"So you've reminded me since I picked you up at your house last night."

"If you don't want to drive me, I can take a cab."

"Greg, I'll drive you wherever you need to go, you can even crash on my sofa to sleep, but please less talking. I have a headache," Nick sighed. "Sorry, I just hate grocery shopping on Thanksgiving. For the record, I hate doing it on Christmas Day, also."

"I made a list."

"You made a list?"

"A grocery list, for both of us."

"I'm not sure I feel comfortable sharing a grocery list with another man, Greg."

"You're in charge of stuffing, I'm in charge of green bean casserole."

"Thank you, but again, still not feeling comfortable sharing a list."

"Fine," Greg said as he opened his door, swinging his crutches into the parking lot and hobbling to the store. "You being uncomfortable has been duly noted. Now, your half of the list involves stuffing from a box, butter, and chicken stock. My half involves green beans, fried onions, and cream of chicken soup. Do you have two dishes at your house to bake in, or do we need to purchase those cheap tinfoil-like contraptions? Oh, that might be better, then we can just throw them away when we leave Catherine's for shift."

Nick trailed by about five feet, not really listening to the words so much, but trying to imagine how he ended up on Thanksgiving shopping and cooking with a guy with a broken leg, rather than one of the many women he had dated since he moved to Vegas. Shaking his head at the irony of the whole situation, he caught up to push the cart, even finding himself humming along as Greg began singing Christmas carols at the top of his lungs.

**XOX XOX XOX XOX XOX**

"Jingle bells, jingle bells, I'm jingling all the way!" Greg paused in the parking lot to use his left crutch as an air guitar.

"Greg, 'Jingle Bells' does not have an electric guitar solo."

"Dude, I know, that was acoustic, not electric."

"Enough 'Jingle Bells'."

"Totally right, Nicky, it's to lively." Greg broke into a very dramatic rendition of 'Silver Bells', while sliding himself into the passenger seat.

Nick practically threw the shopping cart towards the corral while threatening Greg's life and was met with a very loud growl.

"NICK! Could you NOT kill my wife on Thanksgiving?"

Turning around he was rewarded with a hug from Tina and a grin from Warrick.

"What are ya'll doing here?"

"Shopping for Catherine's dinner tonight, and it looks like I got a hotter date than you."

"Warrick!" Tina lightly slapped him on the arm.

Greg leaned over the driver's seat to join the conversation, "Yes, but can she cook?"

"I will have you know, she's making two pies and a fruit salad."

"Pie? Oooooo." Greg rubbed his hands together. "I like pie."

"You like anything that's put in front of you, Greggo."

"True, true, so what kind of pie?"

Nick slid into the driver's side, trying to hush Greg.

"Apple and pumpkin," said Tina, smiling at Greg's enthusiasm.

Warrick and Tina entered the grocery store, while echoes of Greg screaming "Don't forget the vanilla ice cream!" came out of Nick's vehicle as he left the parking lot.

"Happy first Thanksgiving, baby."

"Happy first Thanksgiving to you, too, 'Rick."

**XOX XOX XOX XOX XOX**

Tina and Warrick exited the grocery store, Warrick managing to carry the paper sacks and kiss Tina at the same time.

"Warrick, who's bringing the turkey?"

"Huh?" Warrick looked around to see a very familiar face entering the store. "Brass? Nick's bringing Greg, so I guess he's got the turkey."

Brass let out a chuckle and nodded in agreement. "What are you responsible for?"

"Pies, Tina is making a delicious pumpkin pie and a traditional apple pie. And I've got the fruit salad taken care of. What were you told to bring?"

"Bread."

"Bread? Everyone else is cooking and you got bread?"

"I'm making rolls."

Warrick raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, I'm heating up rolls."

Warrick raised the other eyebrow.

"Okay, I'm going to buy three bags of rolls and hand them to Catherine when I get to her house so she can heat them up."

"There's the Brass I know, see you tonight."

"Yeah,yeah,see you tonight. Have a great day, Tina.Happy Thanksgiving."

Brass entered the grocery store alone, mumbling about how much he hated waiting till the morning of Thanksgiving to grocery shop.

But at least he wasn't responsible for the turkey.


End file.
